


and I'll set my watch by your heartbeat

by girl0nfire



Series: 30 Day OTP Challenge: October 2012 [5]
Category: Marvel, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-08
Updated: 2012-10-08
Packaged: 2017-11-15 21:27:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/531897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girl0nfire/pseuds/girl0nfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A day told in kisses; or, sometimes our heartbeats are all that we have.  For the 30 Day OTP Challenge, prompt "kissing".</p>
            </blockquote>





	and I'll set my watch by your heartbeat

**Author's Note:**

> Day 5 of the [30 Day OTP Challenge](http://ericandy.tumblr.com/post/26596382488/ericandys-30-day-otp-challenge) on Tumblr. Best paired with ["The Lucky Ones"](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pOWxtI7FVKE) by Brendan James.

_3:47am_

He’s lost track of time in the workshop, again – Tony had spent the better part of the day working up schematics for an upgrade on the suit’s flight stabilizers, and he’s only just noticing the time as the darkness that’s pressing against the windows lightens from deep purple to gray. Blinking back at the digital clock readout, Tony groans and mumbles a few commands to JARVIS to save his files before dragging himself out of his chair and up the stairs toward his bedroom.

Tony braces his fingertips against the door, his other hand around the knob as he guides it slowly closed, trying to muffle the sound as much as he can. He pads across the carpet of his bedroom, shedding his shirt as he goes and dropping it carelessly onto the floor. The dull blue-white glow of the reactor helps guide his way toward the bed and as he nears his side, he presses the flat of his palm across it to diffuse the light so the sudden brightness doesn’t wake Steve.

Throwing back the jumble of covers that have migrated into tangles as Steve’s slept, Tony turns to sit on the edge of the mattress. He silently toes off his shoes, removing his watch and belt carefully; every movement is small and slow as he does his best not to startle the man sleeping behind him. Standing again, he reaches his arms above his head to stretch, the joints in his neck giving way in three small _pops_ as he turns his head. He unzips his jeans, peeling them off and tossing them in the general direction of his shirt before he turns again and gets into the bed.

He slides under the sheets, wriggling a bit to find a comfortable position on his side. There’s a grumble from beside him, and Steve shifts, the warm weight of one of his arms curling around Tony’s stomach, pulling him closer and pressing his back flush against the other man’s chest. This close, Tony can feel Steve’s sleep-slow heartbeat thrum between his shoulder blades and Tony reaches for the hand that’s settled on his belly. Twining his fingers with Steve’s, he brings the hand up to brush a soft kiss along the knuckles before he settles their folded hands against his chest.

Steve’s mumbled _love you_ sends a warm puff of breath across Tony’s neck, and just before sleep carries him off, Tony echoes the words on a long, slow exhale.

_0515 hours_

His eyes are open a full minute before JARVIS reminds him of the time, and Steve takes a moment to press his face a bit closer to Tony’s shoulder, resting his chin against the slope of his neck and enjoying the warmth of the man’s skin against his. Their hands still lay knit together against Tony’s chest, and Steve can’t quite bring himself to pull away, so instead, he remains still for another few moments listening to Tony’s breathing.

Too soon, though, he has to pull away, and as he gently tugs his fingers from Tony’s grip and slides toward the edge of the bed, the other man rolls over and tries to catch him.

“No,” Tony mumbles, his face smashed against Steve’s side as he wraps both his arms around Steve in a vain attempt to keep him in bed.  
Steve reaches back from where he’s half-seated on the edge of the mattress and runs a hand through Tony’s messy hair, bring it around to rest at the base of the man’s neck.

“Shhh… Just going for my run. You’ll be fine.” Steve brushes a thumb along Tony’s throat and watches as the man’s eyes droop.

Tony starts to mumble again, pulling away and arranging himself in the center of the bed, and Steve bends forward to drop a kiss among the tangled waves that tumble across his forehead.

“I’ll be back soon.”

Something like _mmmphf_ escapes Tony from where his head is now buried in Steve’s pillow, and Steve stifles a chuckle as he rises off the bed and heads toward the closet for his gym bag.

_7:22am_

The sound of the shower cutting off drags Tony out of the last dregs of sleep, and he hauls himself up to brace his back against the headboard, one palm rubbing against his still-heavy eyes.

Steve opens the bathroom door, the steam from his shower rushing out and rising in slow curls as it meets the cool air of the bedroom. He’s holding a towel knotted around his waist, his hair water-dark and sticking to his forehead, and Tony’s suddenly glad that he’s awake for this.

“Good morning, sunshine.” Tony yawns, pulling the blanket off of his legs before he swings them over the edge of the bed to stand. He circles the bed slowly, his eyes never leaving Steve’s face, and finally finds himself standing close enough to the man that he could count the water droplets clumped between his eyelashes.  
Tony tilts his head up, waiting for Steve’s greeting, but instead finds one of Steve’s hands cupping his jaw, bringing their lips together for a brief, chaste kiss.

“Good morn---” Steve says as he pulls back, but if Tony Stark is anything, he’s a man who knows a good thing when he’s got one, so Steve’s greeting is lost as Tony brings two hands up to Steve’s wet hair and tugs him down for another kiss. It takes Tony’s brain a few moments to skip tracks from _ouch, sunlight_ to _good morning, Steve_ , but once it does, Tony shifts his jaw just a bit to slot their lips together perfectly, stroking his fingertips along Steve’s scalp.

As he slips his hands from Steve’s hair, Tony can’t help but let a triumphant smile creep across his face as he takes in the slightly dazed look in Steve’s bright eyes.  
Pressing his advantage, Tony reaches for Steve again, seizing the knot of his towel and yanking. 

“I’ll be needing this for my shower,” he smirks, throwing the towel over his shoulder and turning his back on Steve’s blush to head into the bathroom.

_1100 hours_

Steve takes the stairs down to Tony’s workshop at a jog; he doesn’t have much time before he needs to be at HQ, and he wants to see Tony before he goes.

He strides into the shop, and Tony’s head pops up from underneath one of the cars at JARVIS’ announcement of Steve’s arrival. Steve watches, bemused, as Tony rolls himself out from underneath the Shelby, his welding goggles magnifying his brown eyes to a comically large size before he shucks them off, clicking off the torch and gazing up at Steve.

“What can I do you for, Cap?” Tony’s face is sooty, a grease stain on one cheek, and as he rises to sit on the cement of the shop floor and wipes his palms on the legs of his jeans, Steve notices several burn holes along the hem of his shirt.

Steve takes a step toward Tony, reaching a hand down to haul the smaller man up.

“Fury called me in, wanted to let you know before I left.”

Tony hesitates in the step he was taking toward his toolbox. “Where?”

“Not sure, he said I’d get a brief en route. Wheels up in thirty.”

Tony turns to face Steve more fully, something like worry flashing in his eyes for a moment before it’s drowned out by a too-bright smile as he nods. “Fly safe.”

“You know I always do, Tony.” Steve puts a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “He said I should be back by tonight.”

Tony wraps one of his still-gloved hands around Steve’s wrist for a moment before reaching up to plant a kiss on Steve’s cheek.

“You know where I’ll be.” He turns from Steve again, finally heading toward his toolbox, calling out over his shoulder, “Love you.”

Steve watches Tony dig through the drawers for a moment before he starts back toward the door of the shop. “Love you, too.”

_2:07pm_

JARVIS had needed only an hour to hack into SHIELD’s mission-brief database and find where Steve had been sent – Philadelphia. Apparently, SHIELD wanted to lock down a rogue agent who had last been seen on the edge of the city, and Director Fury had requested Steve personally.

Huh.

Tony leans back in his chair, re-crossing his ankles on the desktop as he tips back the rest of his glass of juice. He hasn’t been able to get anything done since Steve’s left, at least not until he was sure that Fury hadn’t sent him on some goose chase halfway across the world, or so he’s been telling himself, and his entire body is vibrating with nervous energy.

He swings his legs off the desk, getting out of the chair to stretch. Tony racks his brain for a project to finish, for something to focus on for the next few hours, but when he draws a blank he decides his best bet is getting out of the shop for a while.

Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he sends a text to Pepper as he meanders toward the door, and he’s sure that he’ll hear the sound of her head imploding when she sees he’s asked if she has anything she needs him to do.

_1638 hours_

This isn’t how Steve had seen this day going.

Clutching his side, watching the white tatters of his uniform slowly soak red, Steve grits his teeth against the pain. He’d found the rogue agent, all right, but what neither he nor Fury had expected was that the agent hadn’t been rogue at all, but rather kidnapped.

Bursting into the motel room Coulson had traced him to, Steve was expecting one desperate SHIELD agent, and what he’d gotten was five armed mercenaries. It was too late for the agent, his body already cold where it was still tied to a chair, and one of the mercenaries had managed to get the drop on Steve long enough to bury a bullet in his left flank.

He can already feel himself healing, the blood leaking across his palm more slowly, and Steve brings a hand to the comm in his ear to call in for extraction. He’s managed to neutralize the attackers, all five men spread around him on the floor either unconscious or not quite stupid enough to get up again, and he’s more than ready to get this bullet dug out and go _home_.

By the time he’s back on the quinjet, the pain medication the medics force on him pulls him under before he has a chance to ask Coulson to call Tony.

_8:19pm_

Seated behind his seldom-used desk at Stark Industries, Tony’s playing a game with himself to see just how sloppy he can make his own official signature before Pepper calls him on it.

Currently, he’s up 8 out of 10, going for 17 out of 20, when his cellphone rings from his pocket. 

Pushing himself away from his desk, he pulls the phone out of the breast pocket of his jacket and checks the screen. It’s not Steve; it’s SHIELD.

Tony feels the small smile that had started to cross his face freeze, and he hesitates a moment before swiping his finger along the screen to answer.

“What?”

There’s no use with being polite, not when it’s SHIELD calling and he hasn’t heard from Steve, and to his eternal credit, Agent Coulson doesn’t sound irritated when he answers, “Steve’s fine.”

“What _happened_ , Coulson?” Tony’s free hand braces against the edge of his desk, his fingers tapping out a manic, trembling rhythm that keeps time with the nervous jiggling of his feet.

“There was a complication during the mission. Steve got hit, but he’s fine. He’s resting, now, why don’t you come pick him up?”

Tony hangs up without an answer, already halfway to his office door before he realizes he’s left the keys on his desk.

_2034 hours_

Steve hears Tony before he sees him; he can hear the man storming as he rushes down the hall outside the recovery room where Steve’s seated.

Making an effort to sit up straight, Steve takes a deep breath through his nose at the dull shock of pain the movement draws out, and slumps against the back of the armchair again. Tony bursts through the door, crossing the room in a few steps until he’s standing directly in front of Steve. His eyes are wild, and the flash of worry Steve had seen in them earlier is back, brighter and sharper.

Tony’s mouth opens, but he can’t seem to find words, so only a heavy sigh escapes. Steve watches Tony’s eyes rove over the bandage wrapped around his waist, watches his forehead crease as he reconciles the sight of Steve, whole and alive, in front of him with whatever nightmare he’s been playing in his head.

The air hangs heavy between them, both of their chests rising and falling more heavily than they should, and Steve can’t quite bear the look of helplessness in Tony’s eyes so he forces himself up, ignoring the now nearly-gone twinge of pain between his ribs as he straightens up. Tony opens his mouth again, reaching out as if to steady him, but Steve bats his hands away, instead wrapping his arms around the smaller man and pulling him to his chest.

Slowly, Tony returns Steve’s hold, his arms resting loosely around Steve’s waist as if he’s afraid of hurting him. Steve rests his chin on top of Tony’s head for a moment, squeezing his arms a bit tighter around the trembling man in his embrace before he pulls away. Looking down at Tony, his dark eyes still uncertain and too-wide, Steve leans to rub his nose against Tony’s.

“I told you I’d be back by tonight.”

Tony lets out a strangled sound, somewhere between a cry and laugh, and brings his hands from Steve’s waist up to cup his face, crushing their lips together in the messy kind of kiss they save for times like this – the kind of kiss that reminds them both that there’s still blood in their veins, that there’s still beats left in their hearts. Everything stops for a moment, and Steve’s pulse is loud in his ears as the space of a heartbeat spins out between them. One thud, and Steve’s fingers are digging into Tony’s waist; the second, and Tony’s hand reaches around to clutch at the back of Steve’s neck, holding him in place.

Time speeds back into rhythm before the next beat and Steve fists one hand in the lapel of Tony’s jacket, waiting until the other man pulls back to let out the breath he was holding. Tony tips his head forward, resting their foreheads together as they steady their breathing.

“Yeah, I guess you did.”

_11:11pm_

Tony’s watching Steve slowly unwrap the gauze that circles his waist, balling it up and throwing it into the trash before gingerly inspecting the now pink-raw scar smudged across his ribs. His fingers brush over it, carefully, but there’s no trace of pain on the man’s face as he turns to leave the bathroom, shutting the light off and leaving the bedroom in darkness.

Tony’s laid out on the bed, hands behind his head as he watches Steve cross the room, his eyes adjusting to the darkness in time to see Steve pull back the covers on his side of the bed. Tony shifts over, turning to his side to face Steve and waiting for the man to make himself comfortable on his back, still favoring the injury.

Once Steve’s finished fidgeting, Tony curls around his side, throwing one leg over both of Steve’s and resting the flat of his palm over Steve’s chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart underneath his hand.

“Thanks.”

There’s a rustling as Steve turns his head to face Tony, the glint of the moonlight catching in his eyes.

“For what?”

Tony edges closer, the thud of Steve’s heart beneath his palm steady and comforting. He buries his face against Steve’s shoulder, his words coming out half-muffled against Steve’s skin.

“For coming back.”

The admission hovers over them, and Steve feels it settle inside his chest, warm between his heart and Tony’s palm. He brings a hand up to clasp Tony’s, bringing it to his lips and pressing a kiss on his palm.

“I said I would.”

He places their hands against his chest again, closing his eyes.

Tony’s whispered “love you” ghosts across his shoulder, and Steve squeezes his hand once more.

“Love you, too.”


End file.
